Not So Different
by Lady Shae
Summary: A meeting over afternoon tea leads forces two unlikely friends to confront their feelings. For Amanda. One-shot.


Disclaimer: Characters and setting of course belong to the amazing JK Rowling.

Written as a birthday present for the lovely Amanda. Happy birthday!

xxxxxx

Not So Different

They had agreed to meet at a muggle café. It was easier that way—neutral ground where they could hopefully speak in peace and without being recognized. The last thing he needed was a Rita Skeeter article popping up in Witch Weekly about him and his shocking lunch date.

Not that this was a date.

Harry flipped through the tattered menu for lack of something better to do. The worn words assured him that the cup in front of him contained highest rated tea in Britain, though from the looks of things the title was nearly a decade old. His vision blurred as his eyes roamed the page without taking anything in. He couldn't quite figure out what his feelings were about the looming meeting. Surely he could not be nervous. Apprehensive? Maybe. Confused? Definitely. But never nervous. After everything that happened in the past year and a half, the mere idea that he could be feeling nervous about a simple conversation over a meal with someone he had known since the age of eleven seemed absolutely absurd.

As he picked up his cup of tea to take a sip, some of the lukewarm liquid sloshed onto his lap. It was only then that Harry noticed his hands were shaking. Perhaps he was the smallest bit nervous.

The tinny clinking of the bells on the cafe door announced the arrival of a new patron. Harry found his mouth rather dry as he turned to see who had entered. A pale figure dressed in black approached his table. His guest had arrived.

"Potter."

"Malfoy."

Draco Malfoy had not yet turned nineteen years old but bore the appearance of one who had the weight of the world upon his shoulders. Harry could see it in the stiffness of his shoulders as Draco sat down in the chair across from his own. He could see it in the small lines etched onto his face from the permanent look of worry. The past few years had been difficult ones for the Malfoy family.

Harry had the urge to ask him what was wrong, to offer some sort of comfort, but he was cut off by the arrival of the muggle waitress. "You alright? What can I get you, like?" Harry saw the faintest eye roll from Draco at the woman's heavy Cork accent. The corners of his mouth twitched.

"Another tea for me."

"I'll have one as well," added Draco, his voice cold.

They sat in silence after the waitress bustled away.

"So," Harry began after a few very long moments. "How have you been?"

"I don't have any new information for you. I've told you everything I can remember. It's hardly like I sat in on the more important meetings. I was never very good at being a death eater, you see, in spite of what you and others want to believe about me."

Harry was taken aback by Draco's biting tone. "I don't want to talk business. I told you this has nothing to do with the Auror department. That's not what this is about."

"Then what did you drag me here to talk about?"

"I didn't drag you, Malfoy. I asked you to come here just so we could talk about... I dunno, just so we could talk. Away from the prying eyes and the judgment. Because that's what friends should do, isn't it? Talk about... things," he finished rather lamely.

"Friends. How very touching," Draco responded with a slight sneer. "I suppose next you'll be wanting to braid my hair and give me a manicure."

"I thought we were past this!" Harry retorted, anger threatening to bubble up and get the best of him. "Really, after everything?" Draco opened his mouth to reply but stopped when the waitress returned with their tea. The two men stared at each other as the waitress set down the milk and sugar.

As the waitress turned away again, Harry broke eye contact and took off his glasses, rubbing the bridge of his nose in irritation. Memories flitted in and out of his mind. In Madam Malkins' shop before his first year, the extended hand of friendship, the insults, the 'Potter stinks' badges, being held in Umbridge's office...

The scared looks.

The tears in the bathroom.

The apprehension as he refused to identify Harry's swollen face.

The feel of his hand grasping Harry's arm as the fiendfyre roared behind them.

The downcast eyes as whispers about the Malfoys were passed ear to ear.

The empty look as he submitted to yet another Ministry search, all the fight having left him months ago.

The look of absolute pain on his face as he was forced to identify the bodies of people who had once been his classmates, his friends. Him breaking down sobbing and falling into Harry's arms when one of those bodies was Pansy.

The warmth of his body as continued to lean against Harry, no longer sobbing but taking in measured breaths and listening to the rhythm of Harry's heartbeat.

"Draco," Harry pleaded. His hand reached for the paler one across the table only for it to be pulled away. "I know you felt it too."

Silence.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Potter."

"Like bloody hell you don't.

More silence.

"We're not so different, Potter," Draco said unexpectedly. Harry snapped out of his reverie and fixed Draco with a questioning look. "Yes, you heard me," Draco continued. "As much as it pains me to admit it, we aren't as different as we've always pretended. We were both forced into this mess with our sides chosen for us. The Dark Lord destroyed both of our families, in a way. We both watched as our friends and loved ones died one by one. We're both hotheaded, stubborn, and fiercely loyal to the ones we care about. The only difference is that you're the lucky one who got to be on the winning side. You're the hero, loved by all. Me? I'm the villain, the scum who is a prejudiced fanatic that deserves to die or spend a lifetime rotting in Azkaban."

"Draco, stop."

"No, you stop, Harry. I know why you asked me here. I'm not an idiot, thanks. Now why don't you stop being one and get the hell out of here. You got to be the good guy, so go be one. Go back to your friends and the entire wizarding population that loves you. Go back to your beautiful fiancée, marry her, have children and live your life. You're the hero here. Don't throw that all away."

Harry sat there, stunned, as Draco stood and began to walk away. It was only when the bell on the door rang that Harry was able to move from his seat. Harry jumped up, threw down a few quid on the table, and ran after him.

"Draco! DRACO!"

Harry sprinted after him. Though the blonde man had a bit of a head start, luckily for Harry there were too many muggles in the area for him to apparate unnoticed. Draco was about to turn around a corner when Harry caught up to him and grabbed him by the shoulder.

"Let it go, Potter," Draco snarled without turning around.

"No! You can't tell me you don't feel it too. For fuck's sake, Draco."

"Let go of me."

"Not until you tell me the truth."

"Let go of me Potter or I'll hex you right here."

"In front of all these muggles? That will earn you a ticket straight to Azkaban." He paused, unsure of what to say, feeling desperate. "Draco. Please. You're right. We're not so different and life isn't fair. Neither of us really had a choice in what we became and where it took us. But we're here now, together, and maybe that's where we're meant to be. Please, Draco. Please."

Draco spun around and crushed his lips against Harry's. Harry immediately deepened the kiss, entwining one of his hands in the sleek blonde hair. Draco broke the kiss first but kept his face close to Harry's. "There's your answer. That's the truth."

"I want to be with you," Harry whispered.

"Don't be an idiot. I told you. You're the hero; I'm the villain. Can you imagine what people will say?"

"I don't care what they think."

"What about Weasley?" Draco asked, pulling away. "You're engaged."

Harry paused. "She'll be mad at first. She might even hate me. But I think she'll understand in the end. They all will. I can't fight it, Draco. I'm falling for you. I've already fallen. "

"I know. You're rather pathetic at hiding your feelings, Potter." Draco cracked a half-smile. Harry grinned back.

"I never claimed to be a good actor."

Draco stared at him long and hard. Harry could tell that he was still considering the situation and its possibilities. "So, now what, Harry? Do we ride off into the sunset together while a chorus of angels sings in the background?"

"I'm afraid I haven't got a spare heavenly choir lying about. But I do have a question for you."

"Well what is it then."

"Draco Malfoy, would you like to go on a date with me?"

"Do you really have to ask? You must be daft. I would love to go on a date with you, Harry Potter."

Draco slipped his hand into Harry's and gave it a light squeeze. Harry was too caught up in his joy to notice that the shaking had stopped.


End file.
